Gou is a dark elf in Warhammer

Hellebron walked slowly on the desolate streets of Gorond. Although her steps were slow, her back was still upright, like an unshakable statue.

The cold air mixed with the breath of death blew in my face, the embers of the fire occasionally danced in the wind, and the houses on both sides of the street were like a dead cemetery, devastated.

After a moment, she suddenly stopped. Her eyes fell on the front, and a figure lying on the ground caught her attention. It was her maid, Liannes, the maid who had served her for three hundred years. Her eyes became deep, and she slowly approached and carefully examined the body on the ground.

Liannes's face was filled with pain and fear, a distorted expression that made Hellebron sick, her eyes slightly open, and the corners of her mouth seemed to still have a trace of wailing. She was very familiar with that kind of pain, she had seen the same expression countless times on the faces of those victims who were tortured to despair by her.

Liannes, the maid who had witnessed her best and worst moments, the secret partner who knew her anger and desire, died in this way. Liannes's existence had once been a comfort, but now it had become a complete failure.

Hellebron's eyes slowly moved away from Liannes's body, the corners of her mouth twitched slightly, and then her anger burned.

"Weak!" she growled, "Letting yourself be killed? That's unforgivable. Too weak to even survive, Liannes...you let me down!"

Hellebron's anger turned into a bone-chilling chill that filled her surroundings. She clenched her fists slightly, her knuckles turning white from the force, and she looked at Liannes's body with a cold and sharp look that seemed to be able to pierce through all illusions.

"When this is over," she whispered to herself, with a deadly threat in her tone, "your family will pay the price for your failure. They will learn that the price of cowardice is pain and destruction."

As she stared down at Liannes's body and muttered, she felt the air around her change subtly. Shadows began to approach silently, as if summoned by some invisible force. She could feel that the shadows were not simply changes in light, but living, breathing entities, twisting and surging, like the tentacles of a living thing, gradually spreading to her feet.

She did not step back, nor did she even blink. Instead, she stood up straight and glanced at the approaching darkness around her with a cold gaze.

"Are you scared? You cowards?"

"Even if I'm an old woman, you're still afraid?" she continued, with a sarcastic sneer on her face.

Her eyes burned with anger, and the eyes that had seen through countless souls were now fixed on the shadows around her. She could sense that those hidden in the darkness were not ordinary enemies, and her intuition warned her that these shadows were not just a trick to intimidate her, but hunters full of murderous intent.

"I can feel your presence," she said coldly, her voice full of disdain, "but I don't understand why you don't do anything? Do you want to scare me? Or do you want to use this trick of shadow to stop my heartbeat?"

She raised her head and looked around, her eyes as sharp as a knife, as if she could see through the depths of the shadows.

"If so, you are foolish indeed. For thousands of years I have served Khaine and ruled Hal Ganthe. Fear has long been burned away, leaving only rage!"

"Face me, you cowards!" Her voice suddenly rose, echoing in the silent streets like a strong wind. "Or are you afraid of even an old woman?"

After a moment of silence, the surrounding shadows seemed to linger for a moment, and then there was a strange laugh. The laugh was sharp and low, like countless voices interwoven together, which made people shudder.

The corners of Hellebron's mouth rose slightly, revealing a cold smile. She knew that her provocation had been responded to.

"Well, let me see who you really are!" she whispered, clenching her fists, her eyes burning with fighting anger.

However, the shadow disappeared the next second, as if it had never existed, and the only sign was the kneeling figure of Tularis on the dilapidated street.

He knelt there, half kneeling, half falling, panting, as if he had just experienced a hellish baptism. His hand was still holding the executioner's knife, but the blade could no longer be lifted, like a heavy iron ingot, blood flowed from several wounds on his body, staining the ground dark red.

"Tularis... my champion..." Hellebron called softly, her voice as gentle as a whisper.

The words were like a breeze, but to Tularis, they were like a hurricane. He heard them, but did not respond. He just slowly raised his head and took off the skull mask, revealing a face covered in blood but still resolute. He lowered his head and remained silent, but his eyes flashed with confusion and pain, as if he was struggling, and as if he was enduring.

Hellebron was stunned, her eyes fixed on the expression on Tularis's face, an expression she had never seen before. In her memory, Tularis's eyes were always burning with blazing murderous intent, the sharpest blade when she sacrificed for Cain. Tularis was the embodiment of killing, the synonym of ruthlessness, and had never shown weakness, let alone such confusion.

"This is not him..."

She looked at Tularis quietly. Cain's power flowed in Tularis's blood. She knew because she had tasted it herself. Compared with her, Tularis was the real Cain's Chosen. Neither she nor Malekith was. But sometimes she saw something in Tularis's eyes that she couldn't understand. She observed it. Did she think it was a kind of pity?

It was an alien emotion to her, but she definitely felt it in Tularis, a weakness she could have taken advantage of if she had wanted to.

Because of this, she refuses to develop any feelings for Tularis.

Her heart trembled, and at this moment, she felt an unfamiliar tingling, an emotion she had never experienced in the past thousands of years. It was a heartbreaking feeling, and at this moment, she truly admitted for the first time that she needed Tularis, not just as her champion, but as someone she... loved.

"I love him," she whispered in her mind, and this was her greatest weakness.

To love someone, to need someone, is to make yourself vulnerable, and now, Hellenic is more vulnerable than ever.

She ran over almost instinctively, squatted down, and held Tularis in her arms. Tularis's body slumped down like a winged warrior, leaning tiredly on her chest.

Tularis raised his head and stared at Hellebron through his blurred vision. He saw her pale skin, still as smooth as marble, and her flawless beauty and strength, as if time had never left any trace on her.

His thoughts went back to the night he had first seen Hellebron, the night Kain had first whispered to him, the night he had first taken life with his slashing blade. He remembered that it was after that night that she had named him her champion and taken him into her bed.

From that moment on, Hellebron became his master, his queen, his lover.

Even though thousands of years had passed, and even though Hellebron's body had sometimes been corroded by time and aging, he still felt a love for her that was mixed with awe.

This scene would be repeated every year for thousands of years. And now, this love became so clear in her arms that he could hardly suppress the trembling in his heart. But strangely, he suddenly had an uneasy premonition that all this would no longer exist.

"My champion," Hellebron said softly, her voice gentle yet sharp as a knife, "we have many pleasures to experience again."

"Yes, my queen." Tularis responded in a low voice. He took a deep breath. He could smell Hellebron's body fragrance mixed with the smell of blood and rust, which made him feel familiar and at ease. "I fought alongside you, watched you lick the blood on the executioner's blade, and sacrificed more souls for Cain."

Hellebron laughed, her laughter was low and charming, but it sent a chill down Tularis' spine. It was not pure laughter, but a cold sound mixed with danger and unpredictability.

"Oh, yes, my love." A sly look flashed in Hellebron's eyes. "Not only that, there are more pleasures waiting for us... but first..."

Her movements were so fast that even Tularis didn't have time to react. She suddenly reached out and pulled out a dagger from Tularis's waist. The blade gleamed coldly in the night and was instantly pressed against Tularis's throat.

Tularis' eyes widened, and he felt the coldness of the blade piercing his skin, and blood slowly dripping down the blade. He did not struggle, but just looked at Hellebron quietly.

"Tell me, Tularis." Hellebron's voice was low and cold, with a dangerous sense of oppression. "What happened just now?"

"My queen?" There was a hint of doubt in Tularis' voice.

"We have always been honest with each other, Tularis." Hellebron continued, and the blade exerted a little force, and Tularis's breathing became difficult. "Despite our many shortcomings, we have always been honest with each other. Now, do not break that. Tell me, what did those shadow beings do to you?"

Hellebron stared at Tularis coldly, with a look that contained both threat and an indescribable expectation.

It was a complex emotion between anger and concern.

This made Tularis' heart sink suddenly. He knew that no matter what he answered next, he had to be extremely cautious. "They... tried to take my soul." After a moment, he whispered, his tone heavy and helpless.

Hellebron's gaze remained cold, the blade still pressed against Tularis' throat, but her grip loosened slightly, not pressing any further.

"Go on," she commanded in a low voice.

Tularis took a deep breath, feeling the cool blood sliding down his throat. His eyes became firm and he recounted every detail of what had just happened. He knew that Hellebron needed answers and he had to give her the truth that Hellebron wanted.

As he spoke, Hellebron's expression gradually changed from indifference to a more complex emotion, anger, doubt, and a hint of concern hidden deep inside. Hellebron smiled fiercely, raised the dagger to her lips, and gently licked the blood off the blade.

"But I'm still alive." There was a hint of unwillingness and fatigue in Tularis' words, as if he couldn't believe that he had walked out of that shadow.

"Yes," Hellebron responded coldly, with a strange inquiry in her tone, "But why? Why are you still alive, Tularis?"

"I don't know." Tularis shook his head, frowning. He looked up at Hellebron, trying to find the answer in her eyes, but what he saw was something that frightened him, confusion. He had never seen Hellebron with such an expression. Hellebron was always cold and confident, as if everything was under control. But at this moment, this cold-blooded queen was actually confused.

"I can feel that this is a trap. My intuition tells me that this is a carefully woven trap." Tularis' voice became lower and lower, and his eyes were full of pleading. "Don't worry about me, leave here, and return to Har Gansi immediately. That is your throne and your territory, not this damn street."

Hellebron raised her eyebrows slightly, a sneer appeared at the corner of her mouth, but there was still an imperceptible doubt in her eyes.

"trap?"

She repeated it slowly, speaking awkwardly as if she was hearing the word for the first time.

"You are afraid, Tularis? My champion, I am confused. For thousands of years you have stood beside me, cold, fearless, and as ruthless as Khaine incarnate, and now, I see fear in you!"

"Fear?" Tularis' tone was a little excited. He clenched the executioner's knife, as if trying to refute, but found that he really couldn't deny it completely. The experience in the shadow realm, those lingering nightmare-like images, seemed to still echo in the depths of his mind.

"Yes, fear, and weakness."

Hellebron approached slowly, the dagger still held steady in her hand, the blade reflecting the firelight. She stared at Tularis, and there was a hint of teasing in her voice, but it was more like a disappointed mockery.

"For thousands of years, you have been Kane's most loyal emissary. You could have had power and influence beyond any Duruchi dreamed of, but you chose to give up. You gave up countless times. This is weakness. This is disgusting, Tularis, and now, you have added another weakness."

"Weakness?" Tularis raised his head suddenly, his voice low but full of anger. He stared at Hellebron, his eyes burning with anger and unwillingness, "You call loyalty a weakness? You call my love for you weakness?"

"Yes, weakness!" Hellebron answered without hesitation, her eyes were cold, and her tone was filled with an unshakable firmness. "You could have replaced me and become the master of the sect, or even the most powerful leader in the history of Duruchi, but you chose to stay by my side again and again. Your loyalty is admirable, but it is also disgusting. Now, you even told me that you are afraid of a trap and you are worried about an invisible threat. Isn't this a weakness?"

"My queen..." Tularis called in a low voice, with a complex emotion in his tone, including anger, confusion, and some indescribable loss.

Hellebron showed a cruel smile on her face, which made Tularis' heart ache. She raised her chin slightly, and her sharp eyes pierced into Tularis' soul like a knife.

"Get up, Tularis." She ordered, her voice was cold and majestic, as if carrying some kind of divine power, "Stand up, pick up your sword, and continue fighting. We are unstoppable, no enemy, no trap can stand in front of us! Cain has given us endless power, and we only need to respond to his gift with blood."

Her voice gradually became louder, with a heart-pounding enthusiasm.

"Stand up! Tularis, pick up your executioner's blade and dye the earth red with the blood of our enemies. Let us indulge in the slaughter and destruction we bring, and let the glory of Cain burn because of us!"

Tularis took a deep breath, tightened his grip on the executioner, and slowly stood up. His body was still exhausted, and his wounds were aching, but a familiar fire gradually ignited in his eyes. It was the murderous intent of the Cain messenger, cold and deadly.

"Yes, my queen. For Cain, for you, I will kill all enemies who stand in our way." He looked directly at Hellebron and nodded, his voice low but firm.

Hellebron nodded with satisfaction, a dangerous gleam in her eyes, and a cold arc at the corner of her mouth, as if she had foreseen the upcoming bloody massacre. She turned slightly, ready to move forward with her champion, towards the glorious battle that belonged to Kane.

However, the step he had just taken was interrupted by a pair of neat and heavy footsteps.

The footsteps were in unison, and the low vibrations came from afar, like rolling thunder, oppressing every inch of air on the street. It was the unique sound of the army moving, with endless discipline and murderous intent.

Hellebron and Tularis stopped and looked towards the source of the sound. Soon, a figure walked in front of the neat army formation and slowly walked towards them.

The figure's steps were leisurely but powerful, with unquestionable control in every step. He was as cold as a sculpture, shrouded in a chilling majesty.

"Dakwus..." Hellebron narrowed her eyes, her voice low and dangerous.

Dacreus stopped and tilted his head, looking casually at Hellebron and Tularis, with a smile on his face. His eyes were cold and full of sarcasm, as if he was looking at a pair of prey that had already fallen into a trap.

"Wow... Wow... What are you two whispering about?" He said, his tone was frivolous, but it was full of suffocating pressure. His tone seemed careless, but it was like a sharp blade that pierced Hellebron's heart directly, "It's all over over there, oh, by the way, she..." He raised his hand and pointed casually in the direction behind him, then changed the subject and showed a meaningful smile, "She went one step ahead of you!"

Hellebron's pupils shrank slightly when she heard this. Although Dacreus' words seemed frivolous, she immediately understood the deep meaning. Morathi, that bitch, was already dead, sent away by this cunning young man and the younger generation of the family. What's worse is that the situation she is facing now has obviously been planned by this insidious predator.

"Little brat!"

She stared at Daxus coldly, the corner of her mouth twitched, then she gritted her teeth and spoke, her voice suppressing anger and disdain.

"You really have bad intentions. It seems that Tularis is not suspicious. Is this... a trap you set for me?"

At this moment, she finally understood why Liannes died and why Tularis felt that invisible threat, because this was a play against her, a carefully designed hunt. She looked at Dacus standing there, as if she was looking at a cunning hunter, looking at the prey caught in the net with sarcasm, and the army behind Dacus was like a huge open mouth, surrounding her and Tularis tightly.

"Oh, you say that as if I have any ill will towards you." Daxus smiled slightly and spread his hands. There was a hint of false innocence and a certain teasing in his tone, like a fine needle slowly piercing the skin. "But, to be honest, don't you think this situation is very much in line with your style? Cruel, cold, and full of drama. I spent a lot of time weaving this...gift for you?"

"You're smart, Darkius, but don't think you've won. You think you have it all under control, don't you, little one?"

Hellebron was silent for a moment, then laughed coldly, her laughter filled with dangerous chill, and her eyes stared at Dacreus like knives.

Dacus was not moved by Hellebron's sneer or provocation. He just shrugged his shoulders and looked calm. Then he took a step back, slowly raised his hand, and waved it gently, as if directing a drama that was about to take place.

Following his gesture, the army surged forward like a tide. Every step of the followers of Edreze, some holding halberds and some holding spears, was in unison. The sound of armor colliding and the muffled footsteps were like a dull death march, echoing in the empty streets.

But what was strange was that these soldiers did not take any further action and just stood still like an iron wall.

At this moment, a crack suddenly appeared in the military formation, and a strange figure slowly walked out of it.

The figure stopped and spoke in a low and cold voice with an indescribable pressure. A pale but angular face was faintly revealed under his low hood. His eyes were as dark and deep as the abyss, revealing unfathomable coldness and anger.

"HELLEBONE!" (End of this chapter)